Secrets & Revelations Ch. 01

She gazed down on the struggling young man as she straddled his hips with her spread naked thighs. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the gleaming blade's tip embedded in the man's upper torso. Spread-eagled across a blood soaked dingy bed, nylon cords secured the local college jock's wrists and ankles.

"That asshole, that mother fucking, two-timing son of a bitch, bastard of a husband!" she hissed, her words dripping venom. "I can't believe he is cheating on me!"

The young man's eyes were wide with terror and pain as she drew the blade slowly downward slicing a six inch crimson line on his left breast. Muffled screams attempted to sound their anguish through the thick cotton sock jammed in his mouth, the sock swollen from his saliva. The angry woman lifted the knife up from the fresh wound, a scarlet river streaming from the scored flesh, a small liquid ruby hanging precariously from the blade's razor tip.

"Just wait until I get home, Lawrence... just... you... wait!" she screeched as she jammed the cold steel into the soft flesh of her captive's right inner thigh. A high pitched wail struggled to force its frenzied voice through the sodden cloth while she quickly removed the knife creating a wet grisly sound as the blade slid from the deep wound.

A loose strand of hair, the color of dark strawberries, hung across her damp forehead over her right eye. Still holding the dripping knife, she slid the back of her left hand across her brow removing the offending lock from her sight. A single drop of her victim's blood fell from the blade onto her right breast, above her engorged nipple.

"Roy, I'm so sorry but...we're almost of time. I don't think we can continue with this intimate part of our date...do you?" She looked into two impossibly wide blue eyes their pupils contracted to the size of a needle. "What do you say?" she asked as she caressed his forehead and ran her fingers through his matted blond hair now stained a dark crimson.

The young man's muted words were beyond comprehension, not from the gag but from hysteria. His head shook back and forth as his twenty-three year old body trembled over the drenched sheets, a wet sucking emanating from the agitated movements.

She knew he was beyond understanding; his awareness vanished into the quagmire of his mind. His body was merely reacting to the agony of millions of nerve endings crying for an end to the torture.

"Maybe...next time you will not be so quick to seduce a happily married woman," she whispered, her lips inches from his left ear. "Maybe, next time you will be more careful about breaking up a blissful marriage." She knew there would be no next time. She drew back, the slick blade poised just below his chin.

"Well, maybe not," she softly muttered. A white flash streaked across the exposed pale throat. An eruption of bright scarlet bloomed crosswise over the severed flesh, a wet gurgling lament his last testament.

She remained over the body, her inner thighs wet from their sexual exertion and his thickening blood. She stared at the cooling shell of what was once a young bull, a campus stud, a college star athlete. The face, chalk white gazed back at her through lifeless blue eyes.

Time to clean up, she thought and swung her left leg over the corpse. She grimaced at the sucking noise her thighs made from the gelatinous scarlet glue that loosely bound her to his hips.

"Yeck," she groaned. "Why do I make such a mess?" Stevie, short for Stefania, looked around the dingy little motel room. She glanced back to the lifeless form still tied to the bed. The sickly yellow radiance cast from the discolored torn lampshade painted a dismal pallor over the dark stains of the bed sheets and the once vibrant young man.

Stevie moved into the small bathroom and, reaching into the shower stall, turned the handle for hot water. A weak stream spewed from the shower head. Great, she thought, this will take me forever to clean up. Waiting for the water to heat up, she gazed into the cracked mirror. A thirty-two year old attractive woman stared back, her dark red tresses tumbling around her flaxen visage. Unabashed, intense emerald eyes stared back at her nudity. A light cloud of steam signaled the shower was ready and she adjusted the temperature to comfortable warmth. Ten minutes later, ridding the young man's blood from her shapely body, she emerged refreshed.

After drying off with a grim looking bath towel, she kneeled down to open the vanity below the sink. Stevie removed a black plastic bag placing it onto the counter. From the bag, she removed her garments finding her French cut white lace panties and matching bra. After slipping on her undergarments, Stevie retrieved her black fishnet stockings and black leather mini-skirt. Finishing her ensemble with a white and red tube top, she carefully removed a blond wig. She examined the wig, finding the spiked mane disgusting but necessary. Once in place, she quickly slipped on glossy leather shoes, the four inch spiked heels menacing. Heavy make-up completed her transformation. The cracked mirror now reflected a cheap hooker, a typical street walker for this neighborhood.

Dressed, she stepped back into the room. She could smell the coppery scent of blood permeate the shabby surroundings. She stood by a small table next to the motel room window. She seized her more modest outfit consisting of an attractive beige jacket with matching slacks, a white silk blouse and tan leather pumps. She snorted thinking how her lonely wife routine always attracted the more ambitious males seeking an easy conquest. Stevie always made sure someone of interest would notice her removing her wedding rings and hiding them in her purse. She placed her trolling clothes into the plastic bag and stepped to the window peeking through the frayed curtains. Good, she thought, no one in sight. As she opened the door, she peered once more at the ruins of the young athlete. Stevie pursed her lips, blowing the corpse a kiss and said, "Thanks for a wonderful evening, darling...you were a great fuck." Throwing the room key on the table, she stepped out and closed the door.

"Now, to take care of a little problem at home," she muttered thinking of her loving husband and strode off in the parking lot.